Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Ramsey
When I get out to my car from practice, my phone rings, and I see Grant’s number. He rarely calls to chat, so I’m hoping we might finally have an answer to some of our questions. It’s been weeks since the courier had started shopping the item, and I’d hoped we’d have a bite on it by now.
“Hey,” I answer.
“You have a minute?” Grant’s immediately on to business.
“Yes. I just got out of practice.”
“So you’re alone?”
“Yes,” I reply, wary of what’s coming next.
“Good. I need you to do me a favor tomorrow night and meet with the owner of the Cincinnati Queen’s Guard.”
“What?” I ask, exasperation coming through my tone. If I’d run through a list of a hundred things Grant might ask me, meeting with the owner of the local hockey team wouldn’t even make the list .
“You heard me. Tomorrow night at Kelly’s Steakhouse.” Kelly’s is a swanky, upscale steakhouse on Vine Street. We sometimes took rookies there and made them buy dinner for everyone as part of the welcome to the team. It’s popular with athletes and the rest of the upper crust in the city.
“Why do you want me to meet with him?”
“You’re there, and it’ll save me the trip of flying all the way out. I assume you can handle it?”
“I’m a little wary of his reputation. I’m off parole, but I’m still trying to make sure my image stays squeaky clean for the PR team. If I’m seen with him—”
“Do not be seen with him,” Grant cuts me off. “When you get there just ask for a private dining room. Bring Hazel with you and celebrate your anniversary.”
“The anniversary of what?”
“The first time you kissed. The first time she sucked your dick. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” His tone develops an edge.
“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“That’s all you need to know right now.”
“What time?”
“Seven. There’s a dress code.” My brother’s always worried that I’ll dress down for the occasion. Never mind the man’s always overdressed, Kiton when it could be Armani.
“I’m aware.”
“One never knows.”
“Is that all?”
“The party planner Hazel hired is up my ass about every detail of this wedding. You do realize I have more pressing matters than your nuptials? I’m getting ready to open the new bar on New Year’s Eve, and my focus needs to be there.”
“I’ll talk to her.” I clear my throat. “But you do know that Dakota’s planning a rival New Year’s party, right? ”
“I can handle Dakota,” he answers sharply. I’m not sure he can, especially not going into it with that kind of overconfident attitude, but I won’t argue. “Now if there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.”
“You called me.” I huff out a sigh of frustration. I’d mostly been communicating with Levi the last few weeks, and I honestly preferred it.
“Have a good night.” Grant disconnects the phone before I can answer.
The next night, Hazel and I are walking into Kelly’s Steakhouse. She’s wearing a gorgeous dress that Bea had helped her pick out a few weeks ago for a fundraiser she attended with the rest of the wives, and I’m wearing the suit I just had tailor-made. I bulked up when I started playing again, and unfortunately, it meant outside sweats and tees, I needed a new wardrobe.
I follow Grant’s instructions, and the ma?tre d’ smiles as they check their notes.
“Yes, our private room is still being readied, and your other guest is finishing a meeting. If you’d both like to have a seat at the bar for a few minutes, I’ll come get you to take you upstairs.”
“Thank you.” I nod, politely, hoping I’m doing a good job of blending into this role Grant has me playing.
Haze and I make our way to the bar. It’s drenched in gold, and the bar is lit up with a brilliant purple. Chevrons and streamlines compliment sweeping curve patterns that are littered throughout the place, and I feel like I’ve stepped back into the 1930s .
“This is… wow.” Haze looks up where several large chandeliers drip candelabra-lit crystals from the ceiling.
“Well… he doesn’t exactly have a shortage of money.” The owner of the Queen’s Guard also owns this steakhouse and several other places throughout the city.
“It’s beautiful. I looked him up… Did you know that he’s one of the youngest billionaires in the country? He’s only our age. He inherited the money when his grandparents died suddenly in a house fire a few years ago.”
“Yes, well, he’s a lot more than that.” He has a reputation in Cincinnati, and I’ve never bothered to look into whether or not it was well-earned.
“You know him?” Hazel tears her gaze away from the decor to look at me again.
“I know of him. Enough to be nervous.”
“You? Nervous?” Hazel’s lips quirk in a smile. “I can’t imagine a man who could intimidate Ramsey Stockton.”
The bartender comes over and looks at us both expectantly.
“Oh, I’m sorry. We haven’t looked at the menu yet,” I apologize.
“Do you have a recommendation?”
“Our signature cocktail—the Queen of Hearts.”
“What’s in that?” Hazel’s brow furrows with curiosity.
“It’s a blackberry gin fizz with muddled raspberries added in.”
“That sounds delicious. I’ll have one of those.” Hazel beams.
“Just a whiskey, neat. Something peated?” I ask when he looks at me.
“We have a nice Laphroaig we just got in?”
“That works.” I don’t normally drink during the season, but a sip or two won’t kill me, and I could use it for my nerves .
“Neat?” He pauses and looks back. I nod my agreement, and then he takes off to make our drinks.
“They really like naming things after queens around here… Speaking of, he owns the Queen’s Guard, right? Bea was just telling me we need to go to a game together.” Hazel nods to the inlaid gilded tiles that form a vintage-looking hockey player on the wall behind the bar.
“Bea did seem to be a fan.” I smile, thinking of a memory I have of her and Cooper. Hazel’s eyebrow raises.
“You sure you never had a thing for her?” Her tone is playful when she asks.
“I’m sure. They just reminded me of us is all. If we were nicer people, anyway.” We both are busy laughing when the ma?tre d’ appears and gives us a warm smile.
“I can take you upstairs now.” She motions to the stairs at the back of the restaurant.
“Oh. We just ordered drinks.” Hazel looks worriedly at the bartender who’s still muddling the berries for us.
“Not a problem. I’ll have them sent up for you. Follow me.”
We follow her up the stairs and into an illuminated, amber-colored room which has a long narrow table down the center with more than a half dozen black velvet upholstered chairs down each side. Four place settings are neatly set on the end closest to us, and I glance at Haze to see her taking it all in.
The ma?tre d’ pulls our chairs out for us, and I stare at the array of forks and knives spread out around the place setting as I sit down. I sincerely wish that Grant had made the trip. I’d fail this test in a matter of minutes. The door on the other side of the room opens, and the green-eyed woman from the basement of The Avarice appears in a black cocktail dress, smiling warmly as she sees both of us.
“How is everything so far?” She looks between us.
I stand as she approaches the table, and Hazel follows suit .
“Very good,” Hazel answers.
“Charlotte, right?” I hold out my hand, and she takes it, giving it a delicate shake.
“Yes. Ramsey, and this must be your wife?” Charlotte looks at Hazel, and they exchange their own greetings.
“Something like that. We’re in the midst of, um… renewing our vows.” Haze struggles for a good explanation, but I suppose it’s as good as any.
“Ah. Complicated. I’m familiar with how that can be.” She braces her hands on the back of the chair, and before I can say another word or sit down again, the door she came through opens once again, and the owner walks through.
I’ve never seen him up close in person. Only on TV or when I went to a Queen’s Guard game and the camera had panned to his box. But the sharp inhale of breath that comes from Hazel’s direction when he walks in the door would make me jealous if I didn’t already know how in love with me she is.
He looks like every bit the descendant of old money. Perfectly styled blond hair and crystal-blue eyes. A jawline that could cut glass and a tailored suit that rivals anything I’ve ever seen Grant wear. I may not like them, but I’d spent enough years in the pros to spot them.
“Mr. Stockton!” He flashes a bright white smile at me as he holds his hand out.
“Mr. Kelly,” I say in answer.
“Please. Just call me Hudson.” He turns to Hazel. “Mrs. Stockton, I presume?”
Hazel just nods and shakes his hand, quietly smiling like she’s meeting a celebrity. I’m going to give her a hell of a lot of shit for this later. Hudson pulls Charlotte’s chair out for her, and she sits as he invites us to sit across from him.
Just as we do, the bartender reappears with our drinks, setting them down on the table. He turns to Hudson and Charlotte, taking their orders before he disappears out the door again.
“That’s my favorite.” Charlotte nods to the drink in front of Hazel.
“It sounded amazing.”
“It is.” Charlotte nods, and then she looks to Hudson, who smiles at her, a silent exchange in the look they give each other before he leans back in his seat and returns his attention to me. The suit I’m wearing immediately feels three sizes too tight as I consider how out of my depth I am.
“I’m afraid Grant didn’t give me many details about tonight,” I apologize for my ignorance.
“Ah well… It’s quite simple, really. Charlotte here…” He looks at her again in a way that betrays something much deeper than a business relationship and stretches his arm over the back of her chair. “Informed me that our families have a mutual problem that needs to be snuffed out.”